I sit, painting the mask I'll put on in the morning as it dries, I set it aside, to sit with the rest of them. Some are well worn, a comfortable fit some pinch, some chafe but no less loved. Some are built from the ground up fabrications, that are somehow the most comfortable to slip into. Some smile. Some frown. Some look on the edge of tears. But they are all real, as painful as they sometimes are, because there just comes a time when it's time to put them on.